Blended Tones, Painted Hues

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/54396220.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: プロジェクトセカイ カラフルステージ！| Project SEKAI
COLORFUL STAGE! (Video Game)
Relationship: Aoyagi Touya/Shinonome Akito
Characters: Shinonome Akito, Aoyagi Touya
Additional Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Makeup, as in cosmetics, some headcanons,
Including But Not Limited To - Freeform, akito has freckles, he usually
covers them up with makeup, Making Out, Gay Panic, Kissing, Tooth-
Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-03-11 Words: 3,419 Chapters: 1/1
 Blended Tones, Painted Hues
by Irsneci

Summary

Akito rummages through his makeup bag, fishing past tubes and palettes until the folding
mirror is located. Wordlessly, he hands it to his partner as he continues to nurse his drink.

The gadget pops open with a resounding click.

“They’re gone…!” Toya blurts out, twisting his head from one side to another in search of the
dark circles. Akito grins into his cup before lowering it and schooling his expression back to
normal.

Checking his phone, he offers, “we have more time to kill. I can keep going if you want?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” his partner nods, eyes crinkling into crescents.

……

It might be a bit of a trouble, because Toya’s face is stupidly cute.

Notes

I originally planned to finish writing this like months ago but my writing pace averaged at 2
words/hour. Also sega and colopal were so real for the valentine event.

See the end of the work for more notes

Scrambled footsteps and frantic mutters signal the night’s onset. Knowing the owner of this
live house, such sounds will probably morph into shoutings soon. It’s almost a comforting
routine at this point.

The bustling energy seeps into the dressing room that’s too spacious for only the two of them.
Unzipped bags and tossed jackets claim their customary half of the couch while Toya
occupies the other half, quietly typing away on his phone.

Alongside the thrumming anticipation that courses through Akito is a sense of nostalgia. He
misses this, really. It’s nice to perform with just his partner every now and then.

What’s not nice, though, is the horrific lighting in here.

Dim and artificial, it’s usually the first thing An points out, especially if she decides to touch
up her makeup that day. Sadly, Akito shares the same struggles. And formed between them is
an unspoken truce to not comment on each other’s techniques and product choices, effective
in this room.

They have learned to adapt to it over time, amongst other things. Working past the lighting is
like second nature to him now.

Plus, he thinks, applying the setting spray to his face, nose scrunching at the distinct scent.
He promptly loses that train of thought when he catches Toya’s gaze in the compact mirror.

Fixing his expression, Akito rubs his nose once. He then closes the mirror and tosses it into
his makeup bag. Hopefully Toya didn’t see the whole thing.

Said boy is smiling when he turns around to face him, his previously lit-up phone now lying
facedown on the couch. He probably did see the whole thing. How long has he been
watching?

Clearing his throat, Akito stands up and signals to Toya to take his seat instead. The way his
mind blanked again at that soft smile is disconcerting.

Toya quickly follows his instruction despite looking puzzled. The unwavering trust he puts
into him is…satisfying.

“We need to cover this up, remember?” Akito grins, gesturing to the dark circles resting
conspicuously against pale skin, “Seeing you this morning was a shock.”

“Oh, right,” Toya blinks, lifting an arm to rub at his undereye area, as if that would make it
go away. The oversized sweater engulfs most of his hand, leaving slender fingers to peek out
of the knitted cuff.

He’s so glad Toya listened to his advice in making this purchase.

“Think I’ll skip the foundation for you,” Akito says, mostly to himself as he pulls out a tube
from the bag and twists open its cap. The action takes him just a fraction of a second longer
than usual. His fingers feel slightly stiff.

“This is not the foundation?” Toya tilts his head, watching him squeeze the product onto the
back of his hand. Akito glances up just in time to see blue fringes move along a few degrees,
briefly falling in front of curious eyes before Toya tugs them back.

He looks down and rubs circles onto where the product is, until the enlarged blob leaves a
thin layer on his fingertip.

“It’s a tinted primer, just to even your skin tone a bit,” he gently dabs at Toya’s cheeks,
feeling a tingly sensation run down his forearm from the point of contact. His fingers are
warmer than Toya’s face.

Smoothing the product across porcelain skin, a strange sense of pride and nervousness
sprouts within him. He elaborates, “putting foundation on you would be an overkill.”

Toya looks at him blankly until realization flashes across his face. The uptilted corners of his
lips brighten his features.

Akito’s breath hitches, but a curated cough covers it up well enough.

“Anyways,” he quickly mumbles, reaching for another tube in his bag, “going to apply the
concealer now. It might be a bit dark for you, but it’ll get the job done.”

“Oh, I remember this one.”

“You’ve seen me use it before,” Akito hums, “it’s to cover up any blemishes–” he swipes the
tip across Toya’s undereye area, “–like this over here. What happened to ‘good night, Akito, I
will sleep after finishing this chapter.’”

Toya grimaces. He visibly thinks for a beat before sticking the tip of his tongue out.

Akiyama might have been too strong of an influence. Internally clenching his heart, he can’t
exactly deem it a negative one.

“Don’t let it become a regular thing,” he sighs, feigning exasperation, “leave some product
for your partner.”

Toya chuckles this time, patiently compliant as Akito blends the concealer with a brush. A
surge of muffled cheering accompanies the start of a performance outside.

He takes a step back, examines his work, and leans in to blend out the edges of the nude
streaks. When Toya parts his lips only to close them again, Akito raises an eyebrow and looks
at the boy expectedly.

Toya starts after noticing his gaze, “you use this for your freckles.”

Akito tenses, but he hums in affirmation anyway, prompting Toya to continue.

“No, it’s just…I think you look great with them.”

Luckily, the effect of those words surmounts to but a slight pause in his motion. The color
flaring up on his ears might be a dead giveaway though.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, finishing quickly and pulling away to stick his brush back into the
bag haphazardly. He picks up the paper cup in his vicinity and brings it to his mouth.

“Wait, Akito–”

Bleh.

“–that’s my cup…”

A shiver courses through him as the distinctive, bitter taste coats his palate, rebooting his
scrambling mind. He barely swallows down the lukewarm fluid.

“How…do you drink this…” wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he genuinely
wonders.

Toya hands him his cup, the urgency ebbing away in his voice, “here’s yours.” He sounds
more amused than anything, “I wouldn’t drink coffee that has been sitting for so long.”

Akito takes a sip out of the correct cup this time. He can’t believe he has the mind to wonder
if their lips had overlapped at the same spot on the rim of that cup.

The grounding sweetness of hot chocolate soothes his protesting palate. Without looking, he
rummages through his makeup bag, fishing past tubes and palettes until the folding mirror is
located. Wordlessly, he hands it to his partner as he continues to nurse his drink.

The gadget pops open with a resounding click.

“They’re gone…!” Toya blurts out, twisting his head from one side to another in search of the
dark circles. Akito grins into his cup before lowering it and schooling his expression back to
normal.

Checking his phone, he offers, “we have more time to kill. I can keep going if you want?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Toya nods, eyes crinkling into crescents.

It might be a bit of a trouble.

Staring at this face for so long is not very conducive for his heart, Akito wonders as he fishes
out an eyeshadow quad buried below other products. He feels uneasy and weirdly exposed
with Toya observing his every move.
Popping open the acrylic lid, the divider that separates the square pans is devoid of any loose
powder, completely immaculate and untouched. The same could be said about the undented
squares themselves.

Unlike his sister, he normally tries to use every product in his possession, won’t replenish any
until such a need arises.

The purchase of this palette violated that rule, its undertones too cool-colored for his skin.
Having brought it entirely on a whim, he didn’t think there would be a day to use it on the
person he had in mind.

Akito picks up some powder with a round brush and leans in, bringing it to Toya’s closed
eyes. He pauses just long enough before any questions arise.

Lightly swiping his brush over the whole eyelid, his heart flutters with it as the tool makes
contact.

Visually, the base layer doesn’t do much. But the act of almost painting on his partner, the
layering of unhindered strokes, his hand so close to the delicate skin there…

It’s flattering, because Toya entrusts him with the empty canvas that is himself— was
himself.

The saturated color placed at the ends of his eyes emphasizes their uptilted angle, drawing
even more attention to his pronounced lashes. The ones on the left are lighter in shade when
compared to the right, Akito notices, just like his hair. It’s slightly amusing, and unfair, how
is everything about his partner so…

He gulps, and hopes that it isn’t audible. Closing and reopening the lid with one hand, Akito
pauses before picking up some powder with a smudge brush.

“Open your eyes,” he says, to which Toya quickly complies.

Akito casts his gaze down, focusing on the bottom of gray irises to avoid direct eye contact.
He starts at the end of Toya’s lower lash line and blends toward the center. This close, he can
almost feel Toya’s breaths on his hand, and those single strands of elongated lashes at the
corners are even more noticeable than usual. They’re driving him crazy, though that’s nothing
new.

When he finally steps back to examine the whole face, there are no stark differences, not
really, but his breath hitches nonetheless.

Has Toya always been this, this–

The muted music filters through the door gap, a muffled background noise out of sync with
the thunderous beats reverberating in his chest.

Without thinking, Akito reaches forward again slowly, fingers quivering as he holds Toya’s
cheek in his palm. The supple skin is warmer now, its porcelain texture smooth and soft.
His partner regards him with an inquisitive look, tilting his head to the side and unknowingly
pressing his cheek further into Akito’s hand. His dark pupils are conspicuous against clear
irises.

Akito sees himself in them, a version slightly distorted like ripples in still waters. How he
wishes they were burrowed reefs instead of ephemeral reflections.

A viscous feeling bubbles up within him, its turbulent flow coursing through his bloodstream
and filling cotton into his extremities.

Strange, he thinks, he’s not singing.

Yet he is out of breath, ears ringing and throat itching. A burning sensation pricks at the
corners of his eyes, sudden and unexpected. Symptoms that should only arise during live
performances, when harmonized voices and loud cheerings are the only things that matter.

The melded emotions push him towards an uncharted cliff. He’s teetering off its edge, staring
right into a blazing abyss.

“...Akito?” Toya whispers, ever oblivious. He fiddles with the cuff of his sleeves, pale
fingertips rubbing against the fabric. “Is everything okay?”

Can it still be called an abyss if its depths are fully illuminated?

Toya blinks, his lashes fluttering. They almost brush against Akito’s thumb.

He manages to choke out an affirmation, his voice sounding way calmer than he feels. The
ensuing silence that falls upon them isn’t uncomfortable.

Toya stays unmoving when he still doesn’t pull away.

Encouraged by the toleration, Akito slowly drags his thumb across his partner’s lower lash
line, stopping when his finger pad covers the little mole below the corner of his eye.

There is another one behind his right ear, and another one on his nape, and another one under
his jaws— all of them hidden and obscured.

But Akito knows of their individual existence, has unknowingly and knowingly traced over
them a myriad of times with his eyes.

He thinks about the inexplicable gravitation he feels towards the boy before him. He can’t
remember a time when they weren’t attached at the hips, can’t envision a life where Toya is
not standing by his side. What did he even do every day before they met?

The burst of happiness he feels when Toya slides his classroom door open during lunch,
calling his name in that particular tone. The same feeling when others ask them for each
other’s whereabouts. The secureness, contentment, warmth, and a million other sentiments he
cannot pinpoint.

Those feelings share the same name.

And maybe if they look at each other for long enough, that name could be introduced to
Toya.

“You look good,” he rasps, breaking the silence.

His partner stares at him, and Akito almost averts his gaze under the gentle scrutiny.

“Thanks to you,” Toya murmurs after a beat, “…and you look good, as always.”

He can’t describe the feeling rushing to his head upon hearing such words.

“It’s true,” Toya continues, lips curling into a little smile. Akito can feel his own cheeks
burning up. “Others have said that as well.”

He gulps, “…their words don’t hold the same weight as yours.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah…” Akito mumbles under his breath, the end of the syllable dissipating into the thick
air. He moves his hand across Toya’s cheek, fingers gliding over smooth skin, and tugs a
strand of hair behind his ear.

With calm eyes full of trust, Toya remains unfazed by his actions. The unspoken boundaries
his partner had set once upon a time have long been broken down.

The Toya now will probably let him do anything, so starkly different from when his voice
was an unfamiliar one.

It had echoed within the streets that evening, sirenic and wistful like a sedentary stray. He
couldn’t resist the urge to investigate the dichotomy.

Toya had blended into the night, his silhouette blurred by faint neons meandering from the
main street. More prominent was the silvery soft glow woven into his hair, a similar shade to
those eyes that focused solely on Akito for the first time.

He had never seen irises with such low saturation before, so clear that they reflected every
hue in their proximity.

A single drop of color could dye them whole.

Akito tilts his partner’s chin up, thumb swiping over his bottom lip hesitantly. The skin there
is soft against his fingertip.

He’s scared to look him in the eyes, but Toya is not stopping him. Why isn’t he stopping
him?

Feeling lightheaded, Akito continues the motion of his thumb, pressing firmer against the
plumb flesh. Something akin to excitement builds up in his core, threatening to consume him
whole. He’s shaking, ever so slightly, but shaking nonetheless. Does Toya feel the same? He
has to.
He always does, so pliant and mellow, molded by his dreams, shaped him in return.

A slight wetness gathers on the very tip of his thumb. His fault. And it would be disgusting, if
this were any other person.

A burst of cheering filters into the room again, muted and distorted. it’s a weird sound— so
quiet when he knows too well that the source should be loud.

The opposite of his heartbeats, really.

He watches the orange expand in those eyes.

Soft, he thinks, even softer than what he has imagined countless times, and more so as Toya
starts to move his lips against him.

Elation wraps around his heart, squeezing it tight and prompting it to beat faster. He tilts his
head slightly for a better angle, their lips breaking apart and reconnecting. The quiet, wet
noises sound clearer than they should be under his heightened senses.

The texture, temperature, friction, everything– it’s dizzying, electrifying, addicting.

This, this has been what he has desired, what he has thought of so many times. Nothing
compares to the real thing; he should’ve known that.

He holds Toya’s cheeks with his hands, almost threading his fingers into blue strands, and
deepens the kiss.

Breaching parted lips, Akito half-expects to be greeted by resistance. But Toya tilts his head
higher and welcomes the intrusion.

Shivers course through him as the tips of their tongues make contact. He can tell that Toya is
experiencing the same sensation, with him almost jerking away in surprise.

Driven by pure instincts, Akito tentatively moves his tongue across Toya’s, feeling the
tingling sensation spreading throughout his body and pooling in his core. His partner is
already coming apart, previously straightened back losing all tension as his body goes limp.
Tiny whimpers emanate from his throat and disappear into the kiss. Akito can make out the
sounds of his quickened breathing, being mixed in with his own.

Toya’s reactions are adorable, his fuzzy brain registers. Kissing him feels so good.

Distantly, he can hear every drag of their tongues, every note of their shared heartbeats. Toya
can probably make them out more clearly with his sensitive hearing. His cheeks are so warm
against his palms.
A sudden need to probe for more arises, but his filter has been completely charred into crisps.
It’s Toya’s fault, he tries to justify. It’s not with honorable intentions as he reaches for his ears
and covers them with his palms.

Akito can tell the exact moment when the noises become amplified for Toya, because he
actually moans, whole body shuddering in surprise. He tries to jerk away to no avail, not with
Akito maintaining the grip around his head.

If he puts up the resistance just a second longer, of course Akito is going to let go and
apologize for the unprompted move.

To his surprise, Toya simply…caves, willingly lets the noises ravage his head, accepting even
when he begins to shake.

Satisfaction swells within him, mixing in with other emotions and amalgamating into an
unidentifiable mess. He has never felt lighter, heart ready to leap out of his throat.

The moment stretches into eternity. And they stay like that, completely entranced by the
warmth of each other in the dimly lit room. Akito smiles into the kiss, at least the lighting is
good for some activities.

Eventually, he pulls away slightly, signaling to Toya as he licks across the roof of his mouth
one last time. Whining quietly, his partner follows him forward, leans into him more, and
pulls away only after reciprocating the action.

A thin string of clear fluid hangs between the tip of their tongues, and they both freeze when
the realization hits.

Due to gravity, the string breaks off in the middle.

Akito closes in again, unable to resist such urges. He places a kiss at the corner of Toya’s
mouth to break the tension.

“You know,” he smiles, so close to Toya that their lips brush together as he whispers, “I
haven’t finished putting makeup on you yet.”

“Oh,” Toya brings his hands up and latches onto his collar, keeping him in place. He sounds
out of it, “that can wait, right?”

Not really. They need to go on stage soon, probably.

Akito captures his lips again, swallowing the quiet sighs of contentment. A part of him wants
to drag Toya away, anywhere really, as long as they can continue making out. Knowing that
Toya would allow him to do so is not helping.

He quickly loses count of time, though he knows distantly that they should be veering back
on track.

Lightly nibbling on Toya’s bottom lip, he unwillingly pulls himself away. The pair of lips he
has just tasted is swollen and red, glistening under the light. His probably appears the same.
They’re both afraid to look each other in the eyes this time. He’s weirdly proud that he has
brought his unflappable partner to this state.

Tentatively, Akito lifts his gaze to gauge Toya’s reaction. He doesn’t expect his partner to be
doing the same thing, and they catch each other in the act. Both peer away again before a
stupid grin sprouts on Akito’s face.

Objectively, they look like a mess, with their hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled. He has
never felt better, though, despite feeling restless and jittery.

“Let’s talk about this after…” clearing his throat once, he tries to organize the jumbled
thoughts, “you’re too important for me to mess this up.”

Nodding gently, Toya quickly pecks Akito’s lips one last time before burying his face into the
crook of his neck.

The action is rare, coming from someone who doesn’t normally initiate physical contact.
From his angle, he can see the back of the round head, distinctly separated into two different
shades.

How is the real one even cuter than what he dared to imagine.

“…I feel the same,” Toya mumbles. The belated reply takes him a second to comprehend.

Akito brings him into a hug, holding him close with arms wrapped tightly around his
shoulders. The warmth seeps through layers of clothing as the comforting exhalations pool
against his neck, a grounding weight within his reach.

Breathing in deeply, the scent of warm cotton envelops him.

And when he presses his lips against the soft strands, Toya melts into his arms.
End Notes

Akito, 2 minutes later: wait shit toya we need to go on stage in like— *hears staff calling for
them*— now…?!

The makeup is complete enough that it doesn’t look weird, and they’ve practiced enough that
the live goes as planned. That being said every time when they make eye contact one of them
would start blushing, which in turn causes the other one to blush as well. People in the
audience who’ve seen them perform before are like holy fuck what happened back there...

After the show Akito teaches Toya how to remove makeup. They talk about it and make out
again 👍

When they tell An and Kohane that they’re a thing now, An is like dude we were gone for
one day???

I was tempted to title this makeup or make out?!1

Anyways uh I didn’t mean to disappear for months. I’ve barely been on ao3 but I haven’t
really stopped writing. My next fic will be a longer one.

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